The Stark in Winterfell
by Deviate's Fish
Summary: Another record index for one of my Quest RP games. The premise is simple, 'Tony Stark fell through the wormhole and into Winterfel at the beginning of the TV series'. This game takes place on the BROB subforum of Spacebattles forums.


1. Arrival

Tony Stark was falling.

This was not the first time this happened. It has happened before, you know? He was not exactly new to this 'superhero' business, but it was… what, how long has it been really? It started when he was kidnapped by some mercenary group in the Middle East, really. He was falling then too, but that was because he was tired, starved, sex-deprived, alcohol-deprived, limited on resources and…

…He could give excuses all day and it would not change that he was falling right now. Did it really even count as falling when you were going through a wormhole? In a way, it was like falling down into the rabbit hole, but this was something else entirely. It certainly was not one of the hallucinations induced by the miscellaneous hallucination inducing substances that Tony had partaken in anytime in the past.

Was this what dying felt like? There certainly was not the pain that should have been making a wreck of his body. His displays had sputtered off static, but something had knocked him out for a time. Had he been caught in the explosion of the warhead? Everything felt black. He could not see much, just blurs. Something had knocked his senses into a loop. Maybe he was feeling pain, but there was so much of it that he could feel nothing? He did not remember much either.

There were blurs. There were lights, explosions and a giant green… right, and that was the Hulk. We've got a Hulk. He had said that, hadn't he? Hm, his mind was wandering. What was… ah, right.

Tony Stark was falling.

"This sucks," he muttered to no one particular, though he doubted anyone could hear him. "I knew I was going to have to sacrifice myself one day in this business. I knew it, but this is so wrong. I'm just… too awesome to die." Was he whining? Of course not, he was just filing a complaint to the universe. Oh, joy, he must have become delirious now. Calling out to a higher power…? He was a man of SCIENCE and engineering, damn it!

It was a good thing he was not actually able to talk though. All that came out of his mouth was a mangled version of a groan that sounded something like, "mrglgshucksnwusblargh…" Not that there was anything wrong with groaners, of course.

Ah. His sight was coming back.

So he wasn't dead. He was not looking forward to when he recovered enough to feel pain again. Even with his nerves half-dead, he could still feel the heat. God damn, was he on fire? Well, at least this would be a cool way to die, falling from the sky and on fire. There was something he should be doing right now. It was just up there with 'surviving' and 'not dying'. Hm… what was it again… ah, right, 'snarking'. The noble tradition of sarcasm…

But as he passed over the clouds, the forests, and strangely untamed lands, he could only mumble one thing, "This is gonna hurt." He would have said more, in all honesty. Something about how he resented this or that he had deserved better. But for some reason, he could only think of the way Pepper's lips curled when she gave him a rare smile. How odd… his life was not flashing before him though. From the way his armor still partly worked just enough to slow his fall, and all these other factors… he would probably survive. Probably was such an annoying word at times…

Tony Stark fell.

His suit crashing to the ground right afterwards might have had something to do with it, but at least he landed on something soft. Or maybe it was water. He did not really know, because he passed out. Awesome guys like Tony Stark didn't faint, after all.

It would be hours before he would wake up again. The world would feel like it was on fire, as would the rest of his body. Thankfully, it was not actually be on fire, despite many pieces of his armor having fallen off sometime during his descent and crash landing. Perhaps he was alive enough and not about to die in a fiery explosion, but stuck in the middle of nowhere, he would soon starve to death if nothing else. There was frost on the ground. He shivered and frowned in annoyance, unable to appreciate that this place he landed in being the opposite of the last time he was lost. His body was not about the bleed to death, at least…

…It still hurt like a bitch.

* * *

2. Inventory

Of all the horrible things to happen to you, this was probably the worst. It wasn't that he was suffering from some light burns. No, that could be treated easily enough, especially since he has suffered such things in his experiments before. It wasn't that he might be suffering from radiation of some kind, because his newly improved armor would have taken care of that. It should have. Ahem. The problem was not that the plates of his armor had fallen off like pieces of cardboard in a hurricane either, because he still had his gauntlets, his boots, and his pants on at the very least. That would be enough…

…it wasn't as if he wasn't proud of how his chest looked or anything. Ah, to be Tony Stark was to suffer the affections of all women and to have most of the plates on his chest and shoulders to have come off like this, well. Well, it wouldn't be his fault if all the ladies swooned!

But on to the other subjects on his agenda, Tony called out, "Jarvis? Jarvis!"

"…" He heard _something_, but it might as well have been static. The displays within his helmet fizzled on and his resident AI started to report to him via writing out words rather than speaking, "Sir, it seems that parts of the system have been heavily damaged when you passed through the 'wormhole'. I have been unable contact the SHIELD of your whereabouts. In fact, I have been unable to detect any communication of any kind."

Tony wanted to just collapse form exhaustion, but his strength of will allowed him to stay awake and complain, "As if it wasn't enough that I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere! With our luck, I'm probably on some undeveloped alien planet…" He then hissed in pain, "Ow, I think I broke a nail on the way down. This _sucks_. I didn't ask for this."

"Our luck, sir?" Jarvis typed out.

Tony shrugged, "What, obviously I'm not the one with the bad luck. I'm a billionaire genius philanthropist; that's clearly not _my_ luck we're talking about here."

"Deadpanning: I am only as you have programmed me, Sir," Jarvis replied.

Tony rolled his eyes and took some time to see to himself. Everything seemed to be alright, but with only a somewhat working display and no means to actually see if some kind of super alien… sniff, sniff.

"Jarvis, what's that?"

"I believe that is a fire, sir. A forest fire that you caused in your fall, I might add."

"Well, it's not like there's anything around here or something. At least I'm not on fire any more. That'd be bad, wouldn't it? I'm not on fire, am I?" Tony looked down and around, checking himself.

"Yes, that would be very bad, sir."

Tony absentmindedly noted that his arc reactor was working at the optimal rate that it should. At least one piece of his technology was working as he intended. Everything seems to have gone to hell though, especially this pain that's running all around his body. It was a good thing feeling the pain was second to complaining about the pain on his list of priorities. "You know what would be really good about now? A goddamn bottle of…" Oh.

Ooh…

Oh, his alcohol. His delicious, delicious alcohol… all gone. For the first time in years, Tony felt his vision grow misty as his eyes started to well up with a single, lonely tear drop.

* * *

3. Passing Out

The fire that had began to consume the trees and flora before him was a rather welcomed thing, despite the rather terrible circumstances that it had come about. Of course, Tony was a superhero, not an environmentalist, so it wasn't his prerogative to care anyway. A little fire and no one getting hurt, what's the matter anyway? The air being freezing cold and Tony not having a shirt might have had something to do with his reasoning though.

As Tony huddled a little closer towards the fire to stave off the chilly winds that rose out of the radius of the burning forest, he lamented with some regret, "If only Pepper were here. I could really go for a comment about nippy and cold just about now…" Deprived of alcohol and women, what did he do to deserve this?

"Sir…?" Jarvis typed out, seemingly ignoring Tony's offhanded comment, "Perhaps you should find shelter or sustenance. I believe we are stranded."

Tony continued to speak as if he did not read the huge, bolded text that Jarvis had laid out on his displays, "It's just further proof of my genius that I made such a capable AI."

"Ms. Potts has recommended for me to respond in this situation by noting that 'childish sarcasm is unbecoming of a "billionaire genius philanthropist", Mister Stark'. Your survival is rather high on the list of priorities that Ms. Potts had assigned," Jarvis added.

"Give me a break, I'm cold, starved, exhausted, dehydrated, got a bit of internal bleeding going on, about to pass out from pain, and most horrifyingly sober… wait, when did she have time to do that?" Tony blinked.

Jarvis replied instantly, "I believe it was around the time you started locking yourself in and made Ms. Potts run the company."

"Huh," Tony blinked again. That was a rather broad time frame, but it meant that Pepper had probably continually added more to this list. Well, he gave her access for a reason; he trusted her with his life anyway.

Tony looked down and noted that his feet were on fire. No wonder it felt rather nice and toasty just about now. Since his power armor on his feet was rather intact, he felt there no reason to do anything about this flame. It was helping with his chilly, nippy problem and it wasn't really a problem for him, though… He looked around and noted that the pieces of his armor that had fallen off and been warped and broken by the reentry. Even if he picked up all the pieces of scraps and stuffed them all into a box, he would need weeks—if not months—in a cave to forge and rebuild. Ha.

But first…

Tony raised a hand and allowed the energy to build. The information streamed to his heads-up display noted that his repulsors were operational. Well, no better time to test it than now!

…Before Tony lost consciousness, his mind noted that perhaps it was not a good idea to test a propulsion device that allowed him to fly while large chunks of his armor that held everything together were missing. He might have blamed the deliriousness he felt, but in all honestly he was about to pass out anyway. Still, as he was blasted several meters back from where he stood by a surprisingly powerful push of a Pulse Bolt, he noted that he could really go for some shawarma just about now. Some nice roast beef, some chicken and some veal, yeah, mm…

_Thunk!_

And Tony Stark was out like a light.

The first sensation Tony Stark felt when he woke up was an annoying itch on his back. It was an annoying itch that made him feel like he was sleeping naked on a pile of hay, which was barely better than what he had to go through while he had been kidnapped, but not by much. At least he had rags to lay on in Afghanistan. Then Tony noted that his whole body was aching, as if he had just gone a round with Captain America in the boxing ring or something. Right… there was no way that happened. He might admit in his own mind that he was egotistical, but he wasn't stupid. What's the point of spending years in a ring, learning how to best punch someone when you can have a nice, large repulsors—oh. Damn it.

Before Tony mustered up the strength to reach around and scratch his itch or slap an armored palm (strange that he was lying in hay when he had passed out in the middle of a forest fire when there were supposed to be no one around), he heard a voice. It was a feminine voice, sounding rather confident and young, "—bet he's not a Lannister." Strange accent, Tony noted. It sounded almost English, except… not really.

"Arya, why are you still here? Your Father is going to…" It was a boy this time. It could be a young man, Tony amended, but he would bet a good bottle that the kid hit puberty only two or three years ago at most.

"Come on, Jon," the girl whined earnestly. She had character, if nothing else, Tony noted. But then she started to talk quickly like a brat her estimated age, "I heard what they said, you know! They say he's the red star. Why can't you take off his armor? What does he look like under it?"

"I…"

"I think he's gonna wake up soon," The girl interrupted, causing Tony to hear some shifting. They were looking at him now. They couldn't tell if he was awake now because to his helm, but they looked… medieval, dirty, rough, ugh; they looked like Tony while he was locked in a cave. Tony was already scanning his surroundings though and what he concluded did not exactly please him. Shawarma would have to wait a while…


End file.
